


Mrs. Puppy came to Town

by Attorney C (arh581958)



Series: Adventures with the Ross Twins [1]
Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, First Time, Get Together, Getting Together, M/M, Marvey Secret Santa 2015, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, jealous!Harvey, pining!Harvey, pining!Mike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 08:18:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5449727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arh581958/pseuds/Attorney%20C
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike never thought that one small omission would lead to such trouble. He has an adorable set of twins boys---Raphy and Jamie! It's Christmas time and all he wants is to spend it with them (and fantasy!Harvey if he has the chance). In keeping his private life private, he stands to lose the man that he loves. A series of events leads Harvey to believe that the twin's mother is back in the picture. </p><p>(Or: Fonder Hearts Grow in Silence, but I went with a less serious title.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mrs. Puppy came to Town

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FarAwayInWonderland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FarAwayInWonderland/gifts).



> **Merry Christmas Marvey Shippers~**
> 
> First of all, I am so excited to give you this story since it's the first time that I participated in any Secret Santa online. It's actually one of first stories in the Suits (TV) Fandom (5th!) and I enjoyed writing it very much. What was supposed to be a 2k story ended up as a 25k monstrosity! I removed 5k to shorten it already! But anyways, the important thing is that ya'll get to enjoy it now~ 
> 
> Secondly, this work is written for my Santa-Baby [goddamnloyalty-suits](http://goddamnloyalty-suits.tumblr.com/) whom I have purposely avoided talking to since October because I didn't know if I could hold a secret to save my life. Your blog is awesome~ When this is revealed, I can follow you with wanton delight! I hope you like it!
> 
> EDIT: 01-04-16 Now, with cover art!

* * *

* * *

 

Mike Ross has done many stupid things in his life. He would like to think that they were all for good reasons:  he memorized a math test in Cambridge because _he needed_ _the money_ , he agreed to a one-time only marijuana drop because _he needed_ _the money_ ,  and to top it all off (and, quite frankly,  this may be the stupidest decision out of all of them) he impersonated a Harvard Law School Graduate because _he needed the money_ \---at least, the last one, gave him a stable income.

While he didn't exactly _lie_ to Harvey during the interview, he didn't necessarily tell the whole truth either.

Adult Mike may be stupid but teenage Mike was stupider. Teenage Mike was hormonal, misunderstood and _horny_ all the fucking time. With his big brain, his unending train of thoughts, and his _libido_ , it shouldn't have come as a surprise to him but it did. It didn't take a genius to put two-and-two together:  a celebration for the HS football teams going to nationals, a casual tumble underneath the bleachers, and a visit from the stork nine months later.

How was he supposed to know that the busty blonde would flee at first light? She got into UC Berkeley on a cheerleading scholarship and never looked back, leaving Mike, their children, and the parental rights waiver with her signature in hot pink. He didn't want them in the system so he decided to keep them.

Thus, proving that teenage Mike was stupider than adult Mike.

But not by a very large margin, adult Mike seemingly not having learned from teenage Mike's mistakes. (See first paragraph.) Nonetheless, Mike tried his best to be a good father before he was legally old enough to buy himself a beer. Hence, pot. Pot was easy enough to buy (Trevor) and the rest is history.

Five years down the road, Mike found himself employed at Pearson Hardman.

Three years later, after the firm had become the newly minted Pearson Specter, he was on route to becoming a junior partner. He had been Harvey's since the very beginning, filling the roles of pretty much everything from associate, to lapdog, to secret weapon, and to almost-friend. He was used to Harvey having his back and having Harvey's back in the office for (what felt like) so long that it is the _norm_. They've had a stable platonic relationship for the past three years and Mike resolutely promised not to make the same mistakes all over again.

So when Mike realized that he had hopelessly fallen in-love, in a non-platonic-maybe-romantic way, he decided to bury those feelings in a place where no one would ever find them.

***

It's December. The temperature has dropped to negative eighteen degrees Fahrenheit with wind chills going as low as negative thirty-two overnight. Mike is dressed in a thick winter parka with a puffy fleece lining along the hood. He still bikes to work on most days when the snow is manageable. With his last bonus, from when he was promoted to senior associate, he splurged and bought a pair of snow-tires.

Today is a very bad snow day.

He walks inside the familiar building and into the Pearson Specter offices. He gives the new receptionist a wave-and-wink because he hasn't quite perfected the look-and-smirk thing from Harvey yet. He thinks that the wave-and-wink is much friendlier and fits him better.

His office is Harvey's old office on the forty-second floor and he has to do a double-take when he passes the office next to his.

It's like seeing the ghost of Christmas past; long blond hair and oval face concentrating on the document in front of her.

BENNETT, Senior Associate , her door says but the light is at an angle that Mike can’t read her first name. Mike nearly stumbles over his own feet and narrowly misses the door. Because it can't be, can it? Their firm only hires lawyers from _Harvard_ and not UC Berkeley, right? Unless she transferred to get her law degree.

Mike leans against the partition between their offices, breathing heavily. It takes a solid five minutes before he can muster enough strength to wobble to his chair. He’s shocked enough that he buries his face in his hands instead of going straight through his emails like he usually does.

Trust Rachel to save him from his misery. She knocks on his door, not an hour later.

"Hey," Mike greets hoarsely, looking up.

"Who shit on your front yard this morning?" She asks in lieu of a greeting. They tried dating once upon a time but it didn't work out. He was too busy juggling his five-year-olds at home to date anyone seriously and she really wanted to go to Harvard. Mike helped her study for the LSAT when the twins were on a play-date and she was none the wiser, for the first time at least.

Technically, it wasn't a lie. He eventually told her about them and, like a nail to that coffin, they decided that it was better for them both to stay friends. They've been friends ever since. Now, Rachel is in her third year in law school and is on the fast track to being an associate.

Mike just gives her a look.

She huffs but doesn't press him. "The Sandford Case," she says, walking into the room and dropping a hefty  pile of files on Mike's table. "I want in."

"What's this?" Mike asks then picks up the cream colored folder.

"My research about women's right to privacy and self-determination. Court cases leading up to the 1973 Roe V Wade case in Texas. Summaries of jurisprudence and court decisions over the last thirty-two years. _And_ an integrative compilation of all the dissenting opinions that the judges have and those cases, ranked from best to worse."

Mike nods his head in understanding but then shakes his head. "This is great work, Rachel, probably one of your best, but this isn't my case or my client."

"I know," Rachel admits. She perches on Mike's desk, pressing her cotton covered ass-cheek on his shiny wooden table. "It's hers." She replies, pointing to general direction of Bennett's office. "But she's a..." She leans close to his ear like whispering a secret. "...posh little bitch. So I need you to take the case from her because she'll never let me in."

Mike's knee-jerk reaction is to chuckle under his breath. He doesn't. He cocks an eyebrow when she pulls back. "Oh--kay... Who is _she_ anyway? That office was empty last Friday. New hire?"

"Not really." Rachel shrugs then her eyes widen with insight. "Right, you were still in the bullpen when she got assigned overseas. She was on loan to Darby International during the whole merger affair and only recently returned. She worked in the DA’s office before that too, like Harvey."

Mike nods absentmindedly. Rachel knows him well enough not to call him on it. She knows he's listening.

"Harvard?" he asks.

It's her turn to give _him_ a look. "Seventh in her class, two years before you, I think. Why, she looks familiar?" She questions back. Her perfectly maintained eyebrows openly mock him. "Old flame? Hmm...?"

"No, not like that. Not Harvard." Mike shakes his head. He hopes his laugh doesn't give him away. "She, uhm... reminds me of someone."

"Ri—ight," Rachel says, sounding unconvinced. "Well, if she is who you think she is, you better use _that_ to your advantage to get me on the case." She lays a palm on the table and pokes him on the chest with her free hand.

"On a scale of Louis to Harvey, how important is this case to you?"

"Jessica," Rachel answers him and then turns to leave. 'JESSICA' she mouths again behind the glass wall before disappearing from view.

Mike groans loudly and takes a look over the files once more.

***

Donna does not know everything. Contrary to popular folklore at Pearson Hardman, then Pearson Darby, then Pearson Darby Specter and, finally Pearson Specter, Donna is not omniscient. She's knowledgeable, yes, but it's simply because of her impeccable observational skills and cunning deduction.

Mike had proven this, even if it was just once and Donna probably would call it a fluke. They were in the file room when she cornered him. She dropped by to use of the of the copy machines. He was elbow-deep in legal paperwork that the opposing council wanted to bury them in. Said paperwork, made it necessary  for him to dig around for an ancient file which they _said_ was sent beforehand.

"Birthday?" Donna asked. Her own elbows were leisurely resting atop the copy machine as it whirled beneath her. "You're clothes are... less _holey_ today"

Mike looked up in surprise. Really, he should have known _not_ to be surprised around her anymore.

"Oh!" she clapped with glee and continues her own twisted game of twenty questions, which she had narrowed down to ten over the years because she did not need the other ten. "Someone special?"

He nodded inattentively.

"A special lady friend?" she questioned, smiling. "Rachel? Oh no wait, you guys stopped pretending to be in love months ago."

Mike just gave her a pointed look.

"No?" Her eyes widened. "A male friend?" Then, after a short pause, "Mike, why did you never tell me? You know I'm one of the most liberal women here in the firm. It's nothing to hide."

"Bi, actually." Mike shrugged. "Wasn't important anyway."

Donna nodded in agreement. The machine rattled and then jerked to a stop. She frowned at it with disappointment then hit it with her wide palm. It jostled back to life.

"Not a lover. A kid then." She decided and Mike raised his head, eyes wide. "Two?... Twins? Wow, congratulations!" Her shocked expression mirrored Mikes. "How old are they?"

"Seven," Mike replied, flicking through another stack of folders.

"Anyone I know?"

Mike shook his head. "Probably not. It was long before I came here."

By this time, the file she had been copying were long finished. She gathered her papers from the tray and patted the sides until they were all aligned.

"Do you remember her name?"

"Does it matter?" he said in lieu answering.

Donna shook her head then nodded before leaving the file room.

That was a year ago.

***

Mike takes a calculated risk. He decides that it will be easier to  spend the rest of the year appeasing Rachel instead of appeasing Harvey, if this whole plan goes down the drain--cheaper too. Taking over another Senior Associate's case went way beyond his normal leash. With his new income bracket, he can easily take Rachel to one of the fusion restaurants that she can afford but is too much a scrooge to pay for. But what can Mike get a man who has everything? It would, most likely, result in him spending another night away from the boys. One too many, if Mike has any say about it.

He goes to his neighbor's office and knocks on the glass door, file in hand, and waits for her to raise her head. Bennett, first name Katrina according to her glass wall, looks up and motions for him to come inside.

Mike lingers for a moment, anticipating some sort of recognition to appear on her face but it never comes. She lowers the files and looks at him blankly.

"Hi, I'm Mike, uh, Mike Ross."

"I know. You're Harvey's associate," she cuts him off. "The rumor mills say that you're his little _protégé_.  What I don't know is what you are doing in my office. Don't you have your own?"

Mike is taken back. He frowns. So much for a friendly introduction. He foregoes the entire ' _healthy office environment_ ' part of his speech and goes straight to _'friendly competition in the work place'_.

"I'm bringing you a samurai blade for you knife-fight with the District Attorney on the Sandford Case." He brags, putting the file from Rachel on Katrina's table.

She looks skeptical but reaches for it anyway. Mike's open palm stop her from pulling it towards herself.

"So what is this? You're dangling a carrot in front of me so you can hit me with a stick?"

Mike shakes his head. "I want to _give_ you the stick." And the statement guarantees him her whole attention.

"I'm listening," she says, releasing the folder. "What do you want?"

"Rachel Zane" Mike replies and all she gives him is a questioning look.

"I have no idea who that is."

"Exactly." Mike says, slowly pushing the file towards her. "The person responsible for that folder is a part-time associate by the name of Rachel Zane. She used to be one of our paralegals for the firm until she decided to pursue law school. If you decide to use that file, I'd like you to give credit where credit is due and recognize her efforts. Take her on for the case."

Katrina opens the file and scans through it. "This is good. Why didn't she give it to me herself?"

"Because last time she offered her help, you laughed in her face," Mike answers.

"I don't ever remember doing that," she protests.

Mike raises his eyebrows at her. "Exactly."

"Okay, I'll bite." She nods, closing the folder. Then she leans over the folder. "But  how do I know this isn't some ploy to make me look bad in front Harvey _or Jessica_?"

"Look," Mike tells her, sighing. "Stealing cases has never really been my thing. Plus, you're my office-neighbor.  Now, I can go directly to Harvey right now and ask for that case. You know as well as I do that he'll give it to me. Or, you can takes that file and call Rachel. Think of it as a welcome basket that's thin, inedible, and will probably shave a few months of your life."

"You're a funny guy," she says, laughing.

"I do my best."

Mike gives her a salute and walks out of her office.

***

Harvey Specter is a lot of things. He's a baseball fan, a womanizer, and the best damn closer that New York City has ever seen. He is a success story befitting the front page of Time Magazine (which he got last year) and the newest name partner of Pearson Specter. He knows just about everybody who is important and people fall on their knees when he walks by.

He's also a little bit in-love with his only associate.

If there's one thing that anyone can never accuse him of, it's being stupid. He knows about Jeremie and Raphael. He knew from the first year of Mike and Harvey's elaborate scheme to _suck-it, Harvard_. Mike didn't expressly tell him about them. He didn't mind it, honestly. It was Mike's business and Mike's life and Mike's children.

But he caught on to the signs. Mike would come to work looking like he was a cast member of The Walking Dead;  permanent bags under his eyes like he hadn't slept a wink in _years_ whether or not they were burning the midnight oil with a case, his reluctance to stay too late in the office and ending up in Harvey's office anyway, wherein he'd make himself scarce to make a phone call when it looked like another one of those night.

Harvey had frowned and commented about the splashes of white on the breast of Mike's jacket, the ketchup stains on his abominable skinny tie, and the baby towel that he accidentally brought to work one day instead of a handkerchief.

Mike Ross was a conundrum of mismatched disparity going to work despite being delirious with fever one day, then taking a day off despite being completely healthy the next. Then, of course, Mike's uncanny ability to remember names, faces, and statistics of baseball games and the players. He can name any one of them, even those who were previously just playing in the college tournaments.

It wasn't a common trait for a baseball fan. It was what first made Harvey wonder how Mike could possibly have had time to watch all those games and learn all that information.

So Harvey did what he always did and hired Vanessa to discreetly look into it.

The files she gave him had a picture of two boys with Mike. Jeremie and Raphael Ross, born when Mike was a senior in high school, were fraternal twins. Jeremie, the older twin, had light sandy brown hair and blue eyes. While Raphael got his father's blond hair and (his mother's) brown eyes.

They  were home schooled by Mike's grandmother until middle school. Mike was already with the firm by the time they reached first grade. It explained why they were currently studying in a public school near the firm and, consequently, Mike's recently purchasedapartment.

According to their report cards, the kids had inherited their father's brain. They each earned nearly  top marks in all subjects, better at some and  than others, individually excelling in their favorite subjects. Jeremie was a mathlete and Raphael was a science geek. Like any other normal boys, they were big fans of any and every kind of ball-sports.

The only thing missing in the reports was the name of the boys' mother. All it said in Vanessa's file was that Mike's baby mama had attended the same high school and that was it---nothing else was reported.

Since Mike's other little secret did not involve anything illegal (and couldn't potentially back fire on Harvey and/or the firm), he didn't see the point on pressing the conversation towards the direction of Mike's children. So he simply didn't ask Mike about it. He figured that the skinny blond would tell him anyway.

That was two years ago.

Harvey still has not heard a single quip from Mike about having children.

***

When Harvey looks up from his laptop he sees Mike go home for the night. It's not a particularly unusual sight. He's watched Mike turn around the corner of step into that elevator many times over the years that they've worked together, wishing each and every time that he could invite his associate back to his home without having to face a sexual harassment lawsuit. Perhaps Jeremie and Raphael, too, on a game-night Friday evening.

Today, however, Mike isn't alone. He's walking with a long-haired blonde woman. Harvey silently observes how the couple hails a cab and climbs into it together.

He would yell for Donna and ask her who the woman might be but his secretary has already gone home for the evening. So, he decides, he'll have to ask her tomorrow.

***

Mike strolls into the lobby, winter coat folded over his arm and holding his briefcase with the other hand. It's snowing lightly outside. Thank goodness  that he decided to leave his bike in the apartment this morning. Otherwise, he would have been forced to leave it padlocked on the street overnight.

It's past nine in the evening when he checks the time on his watch. The boys should be asleep by now.

"Drink?" a voice breaks his train of thoughts. He turns around and spot Katrina, already dressed to leave, leaning against a pillar.

Mike gives her a funny look. "You and Rachel work it out?"

"You could say that," she admits, pushing off the marble. "You gave me a sword and she gave me a bazooka."

"Oh, did she?" Mike asks with a smirk.

"Yup" She nods. "That's why I'm taking you _both_ out for a drink tonight. She's _amazing_!Consider the drink a thank you gift for your intervention. And dinner for letting me meet her. Come on, she's already in the restaurant waiting."

"I wouldn't say no to grace." Mike laughs and offers her an arm. Together, they tread through the icy concrete and get into a cab. The pair is unaware of the sharp dark eyes watching them from above.

*** 

Mike and Katrina step into the restaurant before ten. Rachel beams at them when they see her.

The restaurant she's chosen for tonight is a Korean-Japanese fusion restaurant in  Hell's Kitchen .  It's a _Yakiniku_ place where patrons can cook their food on round open-flame grills in the middle of their tables. The food is well-within their price range and the experience is perfect for a late-night get together. They talk over the grill, with the meats and vegetables sizzling between them.

"So, Rachel," Katrina starts by leaning over to Rachel's side of the round table. "Why did you take so long before pursuing your studies?" She's been flirting all night and failing to be subtle about it.

Mike tries not to comment on her lack of subtlety.

"I actually test really bad," Rachel says, not stopping the amusement in her tone, then blushes. Mike nearly chokes on his food. Hearing her floundering over her own words hurts his ear. He practically feels embarrassed _for_ the both of them. "What I mean is, I'm not so good at taking tests."

Katrina giggles over the blunder. "Better late than never. Now you can follow through on your dream."

"It's was Mike's idea, to be honest." Rachel tells her impulsively. "I, erhm, we tried the dating thing..." she finds herself awkwardly explaining.

"Bu---but we both realized that we were better of as friends," Mike interjects. "She didn't want to be a mom yet."

"...Mom? Baby?  Sandford?" Katrina was staring at them, wide-eyed, with a tight expression. Her eyes narrowing. "Is that why...why you asked to be put on my case?"

Mike and Rachel share a look.

"No, no, Katrina, I--" Rachel denies. "He and I... I and He... we never, uhm ...not like that."

Mike furiously shook his head. He glances at Rachel with an apologetic look. He brings up his index finger, wordlessly quieting Rachel, then catches Katrina's eyes.

"Not ours," reveals Mike, " _my_ kids. Two. Twins boys. Jeremie and Raphael."

He pulls out his slim leather wallet and flips the ID holder over. He shows Katrina the only picture of his twins which he keeps on his person.

"This one's pretty old though. They're a lot bigger now. Noisier too," he tells them. "This was taken last year right after their sixth birthday." It's an old photo.

Katrina's face does not hide her surprise. The truth removes the any remaining trace of sourness on her features.

"They are beautiful. How old are they now?" She asks, clearly interested now that she knows the twins aren't Rachel's.

"They just turned eight last July." Mike beams. He refolds his wallet and slide  it back into his pocket. "We went to the Space Museum over on Pier Eighty-Sixth."  It was a good long Sunday while Harvey was away for the weekend. Lucky for Mike that nothing was due until Harvey's return on Monday afternoon.

"And what about their mom? Doesn't she visit?"

"Yeah... no" Mike answers stiffly. His eyes are downcast and he avoids meeting their eyes.

"Mike never talks about her much." Rachel fills in, "just that she was a cheerleader back in his old high school, right Mike?"

Mike makes a non-committal sound but keeps quiet. He is currently trying to figure out a way to weasel himself out of this uncomfortable conversation. It's not that he wants to lie. He doesn't understand why he's so afraid to talk about the twin's mother. He's already buried her in the recess of his memory, down to a place that he never wants to visit again.

But then a clatter of silverware falling onto the tiled floor snaps him out of his trance.

"Elizabeth Jane Bennett," he hears Katrina say. It's a name he hasn't heard in over eight years.

Mike had difficulty following the conversation after Rachel saved him. He gawks at Katrina now that she's said it. It was definitely _her_ \--her whom he has tried so hard to forget. The name harpoons straight through the iron-clad gates of his consciousness causing him to nearly choke on his own saliva. Wave after wave of flashbacks rush through the floodgates of his mind.

He remembers it all---grass-stained jeans from kneeling on the ground beneath the bleachers, the High School jacket that remained tucked away in his closet, and the noise of the crowd cheering on after their victory. He recalls the way she smelled, the way she breathed, the way she arched beneath his touch.

He remembers her face. 

A face that haunts him now, mirroring Katrina's. The same face but somewhat different. He can trace with a pencil all the places where they  are different: the curve of the ears, the size of their eyes, and the length of their noses.

How could he be such a fool not to notice until now?

Katrina and _her_ are connected.

"How did you...?" he stutters in disbelief. Part of him, the remnants of a younger Mike who worked so hard to forget, refuses to believe what his brain is trying to tell him. He has gone too far and gone through too much. This cannot be happening. He probably looks like a gaping like a trout right now, but he couldn't care less because Katrina has the exact same expression on her face.

"Lizzie is my sister."

Rachel gapes, timidly, between the two of them. Her eyebrows glued together in the middle of her forehead, trying to comprehend what _exactly_ was happening between her best-male-who-she-thought-way-gay-for-Harvey friend and her not-so-bitchy-after-all new interest.

"No way," rebuts Mike, "that's impossible."

" _You're_ impossible," Katrina counters, "she said that you put them in the _system_!"

"No!" Mike nearly yells. "Over my dead body. I wouldn't let that happen to them!" He shouts, garnering the attention of majority of the restaurant's patrons . One of the servers has already called the manager.

"Is there a problem, ladies and gentleman?" An elderly Asian man inquires.

Rachel waves him off, apologizing. "So, sorry, can we get the bill now, please? My friends were merely having a... revelation. I think we better move somewhere less conspicuous."

"Excellent choice, ma'am." The man nods. "I'll be a moment."

"Mike," Rachel hisses in a low voice. "You need to calm down." But Mike is visibly shaking. She grabs his clenched hand over the table and squeezes until her knuckles turn white. "Mike, come on, you're stronger than this. You need to come back to us. Mike? Mike....?" She's hasn't seen Mike like this since his grandmother died. It was scaring her too.

"She can't... Lizzie can't..." he says, noticeably fighting for his voice to come out steady. "I won't let her take them away. She left them like garbage. She didn't want them. She didn't love them. But I do. She will never take them away from me." And he goes on until his words are incoherent and his sentences are unintelligent.

"Mike," Katrina finally speaks up. Like Rachel, she places a hand over Mike's and squeezes. "No one's taking your kids away from you."

It is only then that Mike quiets down. "She abandoned them," he repeats like it can shield him. Not at all comprehending that he  has been saying all this for several minutes now.

Katrina nods. "She did."

"She didn't want them."

"I know," Katrina tells him. Then she looks over at a very befuddled Rachel. "I was already in Boston when my sister got pregnant. I only found out after she 'gave them up for adoption'. She didn't bother telling us the father's name. We believed her. We thought the records would have been sealed in court. So we didn't look."

"She didn't love them."

"No, Mike," she confides. "Lizzie didn't. She wasn't expecting it to happen."

Mike presses his lips together with a morose expression on his face. Rachel feels the pity welling up in her gut but says nothing. She knows that Mike wouldn't take kindly to it. A pregnant silence befalls their table. Katrina shoulders the bill and they leave the restaurant as calmly as they can.

Rachel makes sure that Mike takes a cab home.

"I'm sorry," Katrina whispers in quiet voice. "It wasn't my intention to trudge up deeply rooted  pain. I just wanted..."

"I wanted it too," Rachel confirms, talking her hand. "Mike's... He can be a private man when he wants to."

"So I've experienced," says Katrina. She lowers her head, looking at Rachel through lowered lashes. "I must confess; I don't think I can go to sleep with everything's that happened."

Rachel chuckles in agreement. "Wanna have a drink at my place?"

"Yes, please. My condo is still in boxes."

***

Mike goes home not knowing what to tell his children. It's only a fifteen minute cab ride from the restaurant to his apartment in Manhattan. The general area of the apartment is dark save for the bright light of the TV which faces the couch. The low-hum of the program is distant and barely audible. A lone bulb in the hallway shows him the way to the bedroom.

"Hey," the small figure on the couch greets. "It's good you're home. They were asking for you."

He frowns. Sometimes he wishes he could return to his days as a bike messenger. Back then, he would be the one to shut-off the lights and tuck the twins to sleep. But this job--this _fake_ job--paid more and meant a better future for all of them.

"I'm sorry, Britney," he apologizes. "Thank you for looking after them. Do you have  class in the morning?"

Britney shakes her head. She lives two doors down and had been looking after the twins for two years to help pay for her school. She's taking individual -classes at the local college. She's always reminded him a little of himself. Plus, the twins love her bubbly nature and he likes her no-nonsense attitude.

"I took afternoon courses this term. But I'm part-timing at Mo's Coffee."

"Do you want your money now or...?"

She shrugs and takes her backpack from the side of the couch.

"No. Keep it. If you give it to me now, I might spend it tomorrow. I'm saving it for next term's tuition fee."

He nodded.

"Thanks again, Britney."

"Any time, Mike. See you tomorrow," she says before closing the door behind her.

He takes off his shoes by the doorway and pads across the wooden floor of the living room barefoot. He creeps into the twins's bedroom. The pair are soundly sleeping on their own beds with the lamp between them illuminating half the room. They are wrapped up in thick hand-sewn quilts, the last pair that Grammy ever made before she died. He tiptoes to each of them and plants a kiss on their forehead.

He sheds the rest of his clothes near the door of his own bedroom and collapses on the bed.

Mike Ross loves his children. He was saddled with them before he was ready to become a full adult. Saying that raising two kids on with a high-school diploma, college drop-out, marijuana junkie status was an uphill battle, could possibly be the understatement of the millennium. Their future, their health, and their happiness constantly weighs on Mike's mind. Half the time, it was like carrying the entire world on his frail shoulders. He forgot to think about himself.

Yet, despite everything. There was never a day where he didn't miss them, a time when he didn't think about them, or a reason he didn't want to keep them. Jeremie and Raphael were his life. Mike realized that he could never truly be with someone who could not love his kids. They were as much as part of him as his heart, his brain, or his soul. He thought, maybe, that love wasn't meant for him.

Harvey Specter came waltzing into Mike's life with his million dollar smile, diamond tongue, and heart of gold. He gave Mike a change to start over when Mike thought that he was backed between a rock and a hard place. Harvey took a bulldozer to the hard place and sold the rock to the highest bidder. He made Mike _want_ again even if Mike knew that a man like Harvey would never fall for someone like him.

Sometimes, Mike allows himself to dream.

He does not sleep a wink.

***

It's seven-fifteen in the morning. Donna is currently checking her emails, checking _Harvey's_ emails, watching epic fails on YouTube, organizing Harvey's schedule for the day, booking Harvey a lunch at  Carmine's (for two, near the window with nice light and good server traffic), and googling dress ideas for the Pearson Specter Yuletide Party---all at the same time, _before_ her second cup of coffee.

That's when she hears Harvey's voice calling her. She glances down at the  clock on her  computer screen: seven-thirty. Hmm. That was peculiar for Harvey. Soon after, the sweet and spicy scent of triple fat, dark mocha chai, vanilla bean latte permeates the air. Curious indeed, she thinks.

"You brought me a bribe," she says in lieu of a greeting, eyes still focused on her work. She leaves the YouTube window open even as Harvey leans against the divider, peaking. "Shhh," she tells him. She finishes his updated schedule, as of seven-thirty-four am, then turns her full attention to him.

A large cup in nestled between his hands.

"Venti triple fat, dark mocha chai, vanilla bean latte, topped with cinnamon powder" Harvey presents, lowering the cup to her eye-level. She raises an eyebrow. She had not smelled the cinnamon; she must be under the weather today. She takes the tissue that comes with the coffee and delicately blows her nose. There, now she can smell the cinnamon. .

She takes the hot cup of coffee and pulls down the sleeve: _hot, blonde, legs_ was written in Harvey's cursive. There are very few things that she doesn't know. She keeps it that way by finding out whatever it is that she doesn't know. Some things needed discretion.

"It _is_ a bribe," she clarifies. "Will Jessica want to know about this? Because, Harvey, you know that it takes more than a devilishly good cup of coffee for me to do that."

"No." Harvey smiles like satan-incarnate. "Did we hire any new associates?"

 "No." A _t least not that she knows of_ , Donna thinks with a frown. "It's December. The last batch of puppies were from October."

"Okay." Harvey nods. "Thank you Donna" he says before entering his office. "You know the drill; bullpen, rumors mills, pantry gossip. Tell me who she is." 

First thing is first, "I want a new handbag to go with my party dress" she announces into the intercom.

"Make it expensive" comes Harvey's snarky reply.

Donna gets to work armed with a determination and a self-gratifying _want_ for a new handbag.

***

Mike drags himself out of bed at four in the morning, giving up on the idea of sleep entirely. He lay awake in bed all night, tossing and turning, as the name of his children's mother haunted him. He cooks breakfast, picks up his dirty clothes and throws them in the washing machine when the sun comes up, then takes the twins to school.

They tell him about what he missed yesterday while munching on chocolate chip waffles. On the subway ride, Jeremie tells him how their teacher brought pie and taught them fractions and Raphael named every fleck of green the managed to survive the winter climate. Then they both tell him about the bully from one of the higher grades and their plans of teaching him a lesson.

Mike laughs and tells them not to get caught by the teacher, or worse, the principal.

"Will you pick us up today, dad?" Raphael asks, peering up at him in question.

"Or will we go home by ourselves and knock on Rosa's door again?" Comes Jeremie's counter-offer.

Rosa Rosales is their elderly neighbor who lives  with one of her daughters. She has two grandchildren of her own, girls aged five and nine. When they first moved into the apartment four years ago, Rosa's daughter filed for a divorce but her husband sued for custody of the girls. Mike took it on as a pro-bono and won the case. From time to time, she looks after the twins when Mike stays late at the firm and Britney still hasn't gotten back from school. Mike couldn't be more grateful towards her, especially during the first months without Grammy.

"Hmm," says Mike, non-committal. After last night's dinner, he really  does not want to spend too long in the office. "Yeah," he decides "I'll come pick you guys up. Then, tell you what, we can go shopping for dinner."

The twins beam. "Okay!" they say in unison before running into the school.

***

Donna slaps a file on Harvey's desk right just as he's ending a call. He gives her an unimpressed look and drags it towards him. There's a green pine Tree-shaped post-it note stuck on it. Harvey can't decide whether Donna's making fun of him pining over Mike or because it 's nearing Christmas. Probably both, he thinks, and gives her credit for both ideas. It's a Donna-list for clutches that she thinks will go well with her long gown.

The  file is entirely about one Katrina Bennett.

Contrary to what most people will think, Harvey did take time to go over Mike's resume when he first hired the cocky young secretly _-not-Harvard-graduate_ with an eidetic memory. Of course he went over Mike's past. Mike was his responsibility from the moment that he agreed to sign the kid his first paycheck. That's the reason why he knows where Mike went to high school.

He cross-references it to the current file and, _boom,_ he has his smoking gun that links Mike Ross to Katrina Bennett: they went to school together. So far, that was the _only_ thing he knew about Mike Ross' unnamed baby mama. It makes sense; their history, her return, and their reunion. There was no other reason why Mike and Katrina would just _click_ out of nowhere. She must be the twins' mother. Now that she's back, Jeremie and Raphael will know what's like to have a mom. She's perfect for Mike too; smart, sexy, and beautiful.

Harvey can't fathom the sickening feeling that builds in his stomach. He isn't stupid. His chances with Mike just plummeted from fifty percent to sub-zero. Mike will never love him back now that he has a chance to have a normal heterosexual family again. Besides, Mike was straight from the get-go, wasn't he?

He vaguely hears paper crinkling and realizes that it's coming from his hands. The file which Donna had printed for him was nothing but a large wad of paper by the time his next visitor arrives.

***

Mike enters his office and nearly jumps out of his shoes when Harvey swivels around in _Mike's_ comfy leather chair, behind _Mike's_ desk, inside _Mike's_ office, looking for all the world like he owns the place. Well, technically as a name partner, Harvey rents the office but there's the whole corporate veil thing--but that's all besides the point. Harvey was _waiting_ for him to arrive.

"You're late, rookie," Harvey points out, sounding annoyed but there's no bite to his words. "You get an office and suddenly you run around like you own the place? Have you forgotten _who_ you work for, Mike?"

"No, Harvey," answers Mike, trying to glare but failing because his eyes are threatening to close. "I finished everything you need  for the Lancaster case, the briefs for the Greene trial, the summary of the opposing council pleadings for the Kruger memorandum, and the script for the McKeller deposition."

Harvey just nods, signaling Mike to keep talking.

"What?" Mike throws his hands in the air.

"No, and I quote, boom boom boom?"  Harvey teases. "I see that the new office has not dissuaded you from your horrible love for skinny ties."

"Boom boom boom," Mike repeats, rather lamely, in a weak attempt at humor. "Really, Harvey, it's only nine. I had to finish some work for my other case loads too. You know for _my_ clients?"

"You have your own clients?" says Harvey in mock surprise because, clearly, the man is jerking with him.

"Haha," replies Mike, rolling his eyes. "You were the one who said I should start building my network, I was only following your advice. Here to tell me you were wrong?"

"No," Harvey answers in a matter of fact tone. "I---"

"Mike, I saw you come in," Katrina jabbers, stumbling into the room with no sense of her surroundings. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I hope you might forgive me. They're from my bloodline too and I really want to see them. I already missed most of their childhood and they've grown up so much. Mike, I---" she stops dead in her tracks when she notices Harvey.

"Mr. Specter, sir. I didn't see you. I---" she stammers, blushing like a tomato.

"Wonderful observation, Miss Bennett," says Harvey and if he teeters slightly into a faux English accent, he means it to poke fun at her.

"I'll see you later, Mike. But we still need to talk," she stammers backing away as if she's been caught by the principal.

"Troubles in paradise, Mike?" Quips Harvey.

"Paradise is a myth, Harvey," Mike deadpans. "And love is for the weak."

"We love things we love for what they are," Harvey quotes.

"I don't know that one," Mike confesses. Slowly, he starts to feel normal again. He likes this, the easy banter and effortless camaraderie that surround the two of them. Last night threw him off balance, out of his game, but with Harvey here, he feels like he can get back on course.

"Robert Frost, poetry," Harvey says.

"Trust you to quote the classics. I thought that we were more motion picture chic?" Mike chuckles, finally relaxing and looking more like his usual self.  Harvey can almost see the knots unwinding in his associate's shoulders. "So what _did_ you come here for? The deposition isn't until eleven."

It's unusual for Harvey to be down in Mike's office. To be honest, it's uncommon for him to go anywhere beyond his office, Jessica's office, the conference rooms, or the bullpen (rarer now that Mike isn't there anymore). Even the library or Rachel's office, Mike thinks, has never seen a glimpse of Harvey's shadow.

"Lunch," announces Harvey, "at Carmine's."

"What?" Mike parrots in disbelief.

"With a client" Harvey clarifies. "At half past twelve. So we better wrap-up the deposition quickly. I want to go over the question before my Skype meeting with Zoe."

"Right, Zoe." T _he one that got away_ , Mike reminds himself internally. "Is there are reason we aren't doing this in your office where there's a perfectly comfortable couch for me to sit on?"

"You were late," Harvey points out then pats the side of Mike's desk. "Up, up, puppy."

Mike grumpily perches himself on top of his desk., one leg bent and the other hanging off the side beside Harvey's thigh. At his height, he needs to bend his back in order to read over the script which is printed a short bond paper. They read through the questions one by one but all Mike can focus on is the heat of Harvey's body so close to his.

***

The deposition goes as smooth as silk. They uncover not only the smoking gun but a couple of skeletons to destroy the witness' credibility to the jury in court. Mid-way, Harvey receives  a text from Donna that his lunch date, Claire, canceled due to unforeseen circumstances with the weather. He decides to keep that information to himself and follow through with the reservation anyway. It'll give him more time to wheedle information out of Mike.

Ray picks them up in the town car. He plays songs from the Godfather from the office to Carmine's because of Ray's horribly clichéd humor and the fact that they're  going to an Family-owned Italian restaurant. There's a reason Harvey always liked Ray.

The table that Donna got them (technically, Claire and him, but semantics) is wonderful. It's located against the large glass window on the second story of Carmine's which gives them a beautiful view of the street below.

Mike takes in the sight of two chairs in bewilderment. "Harvey, there are two chairs."

"Claire canceled while we were on route," Harvey white-lies smoothly and urgently opens the menu. If he gives the appearance of being preoccupied, Mike will cease further inquiry. It works and the other man opens his own copy of the menu.

Harvey eyes Mike over his menu and observes, in innocent delight, the way Mike's face changes as he turns from page to page. They order their meals: veal for him and beef stew for Mike. He orders a bottle young red to go with their selection.

"How are the twins?" Harvey drops the bomb without preamble.

Mike is visibly taken aback. He does not remember ever mentioning Jeremie or Raphael to Harvey. It takes him a moment to scan through his memory and proves his assumptions correct. He never did!

"You knew?" he sputters before he can stop himself.

Harvey  shrugs non-committally,  and breaks off a piece of break, dipping it in balsamic-vinaigrette.

"Right, Donna," Mikes mutters and Harvey doesn't bother correcting him. He carefully eats his piece of bread, still somewhat  in awe. "But you never said anything."

"Neither did you," Harvey points out. "So, the twins? How are they?"

"Jamie and Raphy are good. Finals are right around the corner so they're pretty pumped for Christmas break," says Mike on autopilot. He was in a weird state of consciousness, floating between shock and glee, suddenly being able to breathe easier. It's like a weight, which he didn't even know he was carrying, has been lifted off his shoulder.

"Ahh," Harvey hums over his food. It makes sense that Mike has nicknames for them. Just like Mike is short for Michael. "When does that start?"

Their food arrives and Mike has to wait for everything to be neatly arranged on their table before he can answer.

"It should start next week, you know, if there aren't any more snow days."

Mike is still having trouble understanding what's happening. He is having a non-work-related lunch with Harvey _and_ talking about their (his) personal life. While Harvey and he have been tiptoeing on the boundary of almost-to-real friendship, they've never gone so far as to 'hang-out' or socialize outside of work functions.

(Albeit, it was mostly due to him because he wanted to get back to Jeremie and Raphael.) So forgive him if he's skeptical about it.

"What brought this on, Harvey?"

Harvey takes a piece of veal from his fork, pursing his lips as he takes it into his mouth. There's even a hint of his pink tongue darting out, ever so quickly, when he first parts his lips. A man eating veal should not look so devastatingly hot, but he 's Harvey---and Mike was secretly in-love with him.

"We've known each other five years, Mike. I figured  this was as good a time as any."

"But why _now_? You could have brought it up sooner," Mike presses, unconvinced.

Harvey sighs, putting down his fork. "And why didn't _you_? You've come to me with much worse revelations. I respected you enough not to pry. God knows, I've already done that enough times. If you didn't want to tell me that you had kids, there wasn't anything I could do about it. They are your kids, Mike, and it's still your life."

"What... what?" Mike blinks, looking like he just got sucker-punched. "You thought... I didn't want to tell you? Harvey, that's ridiculous! You're practically my best friend."

Harvey makes a _go on_ face, emphasizing with a hand gesture.

Mike thinks back and remembers _why_ he hasn't even mentioned the twins to Harvey. The answer surprises him more than it should.

"I didn't think to mention them," And it's a knee-jerk reaction to chuckle at this point but he holds it in, continuing, "because we were always wrapped up in one case or another. It never came up. And you never asked so... I never thought you'd be interested in all that domestic drama." He sighs because he can count, on one hand, the number of times that Harvey has been personal with people.

"Who exactly do you think I am?" Harvey asks with a frown. "Some heartless beast?"

"No, no, no!" Mike shoots down the idea with both hands raised. He lowers them, palm-side down on the table. "Look Harvey. You're my boss, my mentor, and my friend, I guess I subconsciously thought that if I told you, it would be asking too much. I mean, you've already saved my ass more than once. You shouldn't take responsibility for them too. They're _my_ kids."

Harvey isn't pleased with the answer. He takes a sip of his wine rigidly. On one hand, he understands what Mike is saying but he can't avoid the anguish that it gives him. He is also guilty of being well-guarded with his own emotions. He knows, for a fact, that Mike is able to fully take care of himself and the twins. Harvey will never take that away from him. He just wants---

He wants to _date_ him. He wants to wake up in the morning and see Mike beside him. He wants to make love to him until all of Mike's genius momentarily evades him. He wants to fall asleep with Mike on the same bed. He wants coffee on lazy Saturday mornings while watching weekend cartoons curled up on the sofa.

Harvey belatedly realizes that he wants to be there for Jeremie and Raphael. He wants to know them. He wants to take them out for ballgames. He wants to watch them play. He wants to tease them about the tooth fairy and getting  cavities  from eating too much candies. He wants to take them to the movies, or the aquarium, or a museum. He wants to teach them how to play catch, how to pitch, and how to score a game, because Mike's form is shit and his  is far better.

Fuck, he's not just a little bit in-love with Mike; he's completely gone for him. Double-fuck.

"I know. That's not what I meant," Harvey manages to say despite the on-going chaos in his brain.  "I just want to meet them."

"Why?" Mike croaks out like suddenly his throat is so dry. It sounds so bloody honest that it hurts.

"Because you're a great guy, Mike. I know Jeremie and Raphael are great kids too."

Mike cannot believe his ears. Harvey _the shark_ Specter wants to meet his kids. Sweet baby Jesus, _Harvey wants to meet his kids._ What the hell was happening to the world?

"Okay," says Mike without knowing what he really means by it. Okay, he'll let Harvey meet them. Okay, he wants Harvey to meet them. Okay, he's okay with all of it. He doesn't know which of those okays he really means or if he means them all.

"Okay," Harvey repeats like he's making sure this isn't all entirely a dream. Then he smiles. That smile should be illegal. It's a small lift on the side of Harvey's lips, slightly deepening his tiny dimples. His eyes become almond-shaped, there's crows-feet crinkling in the corner and laugh lines around his mouth. But, dear god, he his eyes are _shining_ with unabashed happiness. It melts Mike's insides into putty.

"You should bring them to the Pearson Specter Children's party," Harvey announces.

"We have a children's party?" a confused Mike responds. "For real? For Christmas?"

Harvey makes a happy hum over some mash with a generous lather of sauce. It's butter and smooth on his tongue while the sauce is a little bit sweet. He rinses it down with a generous slip of young red. He cannot stop the smile from forming on his lips.

"We do now. I'll talk to Jessica. She'll love it. Inter-office camaraderie and all that." 

***

Another odd thing happens after the lunch meeting, Harvey takes Mike to his old associate office, the one which Mike was currently using.

"Harvey," Mike thinks aloud confidently. "You don't think I know what you're doing?"

Harvey pauses mid-step to give him a questioning look. Afraid, for a second, that Mike has seen through his cool composed professional charade.

"What am I doing, Mike?" He says, biting the inside of his cheek. He wonders briefly if it's a sexual harassment lawsuit that's going to get bitch-slapped on his face. Then again, Mike does not look pissed, so he allows himself to hope that, perhaps, Mike reciprocates the inappropriate feelings that has developed between them.

"You're buttering me up for something," Mike answers, playfully accusing. "Is it a case? Is it a good one? You know you have the entire associate bullpen at your disposal." Mike crosses his fingers over his chest with a smirk, leaning against the window sill. "But I've always been your favorite."

There's a flash of disappointment in Harvey's features. The break in composure only lasts a second before the cool and calm demeanor is once again put into place.  Mike doesn't look into it any further.

 _They aren't you,_ Harvey wants to say but ends up shaking his head. "Why bother when I have a trained puppy right here?" He says, crowding into Mike's personal space more than usual. From this angle, he can spy on Mike's baby mama in the next office.

Katrina looked up the moment that they were visible from the hallway. Then she ducked her head in embarrassment when she recognized Harvey. She is clearly interested, eyeing them from under her lowered lashes; trying and failing to look like she is doing some real work, not snooping. Harvey gives her a cursory glance when he backs off.

"Does this mean that I can go home early?" Mike asks cheekily.

Harvey lowers his lips in a fake frown. "What? Sorry? Did you say something? I think I can't hear you through my awesomeness," he jests, complete with hand gestures. "Kruger memorandum drafts before the end of day."

"Yes, mom!" Mike calls out behind him with his own grin too big for his face.

"Hey," Katrina pipes up from behind him. Mike whirls around and sees her leaning against the wall. "Can we talk?"

"I'll be more than happy to help you out on a case, Katrina." He pushes his body off the wall, moving in closer since their doors were side by side, then tells her. "But if this is about the kids, I think my schedule just got fully-booked. Can we reschedule around _never in a million years_?" then closes the door behind him.

Katrina slices a file through the opening and stubbornly enters the office.

"One shot," she all but begs Mike. She closes the door behind her, sealing them inside. "I just want to see them."

"Give me a reason why I should," Mike offers, arms crossed in front of him, standing in the middle of his office.

"Because I'm not my sister," Katrina barks back. "Think about it, Mike. They might not be curious now but what happens when they start asking questions? When they start looking for answers? For their mother. I can't speak for Elizabeth but, at least, I... I still think that they are family. You too. It doesn't have to be just blood, Mike."

There's a long, pregnant silence until Mike breaks it. "Okay," he sighs, giving in. He points a finger at her before raising it in the air. "Just once. Then we'll let the twins decide if they want to see you again."

"Yes? Really?" Katrina beams. "When?"

"Saturday morning, barring any emergencies in the firm." Mike decides. "Lunch. You can ask Rachel for a kid-friendly restaurant. 11am? Scratch that. Let's call it brunch." 

Katrina nods and goes back to her office with a huge smile on her face.

Mike is left alone inside his office. While he does not necessarily keep his twins a secret, it's been a long, long time since he's brought them out with someone other than himself. It was just easier, like Harvey once taught him, to keep his personal life separate from his professional one. He always had a clear head and compartmentalized between Mike the Dad and Mike the Associate.

He's blurring the lines and he's unsure how to feel about it. There's a traitorous part of his brain that makes him believe that there can be a space for Mike the Lover, too.

***

As it turns out, Jamie and Raphy _love_ Katrina. Brunch is an undeniable success. Despite Mike's initial apprehensions with Katrina barging into their lives, she and Rachel seem to fit right into their cozy little world. They  sit down for brunch in an old burger joint that looks like it weathered the the first and second World Wars, as well as everything in between, but was still up and running. It also had a raw bar and luxury burger options for the adult clientele.

Katrina wasn't as invasive as he thought she would be and the boys genuinely seemed to like her. He didn't introduce her immediately as their aunt,though. He wasn't overly fond of the biases that a simple title could incur. Her questions were warm and simple, coaxing the boys out of their shells bit by bit. Rachel was a good addition too, because it gave Mike an excuse to be preoccupied.

"She loves them", Rachel coos, and Mike can tell from her face that she's a teensie-tiny bit jealous. "We never hit it off like that."

Mike glances over at the display: Katrina on one side and the boys on the other , Raphy in the middle of a very animated retelling of their adventures with the bully. They managed to turn the entire school yard (of their third-grade peers) against him on the last day of school. It was glorious. 

"Maybe its genetic?" Mike supposes, hugging the steaming cup of coffee to make him warm. "They do come from the same family tree, after all." He finds that it's easier to talk about now. Like it's not this big gigantic secret that he's been keeping. A part of him never forgave Lizzie for abandoning them and throwing his life in a downward spiral; he thought perhaps, that part of him never would.

But it's time to move on. Jamie and Raphy were growing up and their world was getting bigger and bigger. Mike's unsure how to feel about that.

Rachel pouts from beside him. "Maybe I am just not meant to have kids."

"It will come," Mike reassures her with a slight cough but he hides it too well for her to notice. He feels the hairs on his arms rise up under his clothes. "You're Rachel Zane: strong, confident, independent woman!"

"Maybe I haven't found the right person to want kids with." When she says it, her eyes flit towards Katrina.

The day is cut short when Mike's phone abruptly starts blaring out the Imperial March from Star Wars. There is only one person with that specific ring tone on Mike's phone. It was initially a joke that started when Harvey let it slip that he was a Star Trek fan and Mike purposely let it slip that he prefers Star Wars. He deliberately counters Harvey Spock-related anecdotes with wisdom from Yoda.

"It's Saturday, Harvey," says Mike, rolling his eyes, over the receiver. He wonders if he sounds more amused than annoyed. He pushes that thought to the back of his mind. "I'm entitled to my weekends. Senior Associate, you know? Not bullpen puppy?"

The boys are still energetically speaking with Katrina in the background. "Bennett," the twins say in unison, playing with the word on their lips like a game. "Like Pride and Prejudice!" they yell, then promptly begin to quote lines from the movie and Mike already regrets letting them watch it with Britney (because she needed it for Lit-Class) while he was working.

He'd been too late to stop it from seeping into their brains because, like him, the pair soaked up information like a sponge did water. By the time he was home, Britney dutifully informed him that she watched it no less than two times so she could write her paper. The twins were grinning ear-to-ear as they recited lines at him for the very first time.

Mike shook his head, shaking away the memory. He watches as the twins blurt out line after line, accompanied with really bad dramatization, making Rachel and Katrina giggle in their seats. He is a lucky man to be their father.

"Of course, I'm out with the boys. Not everyone has the luxury of being a bachelor, you know." Mike frowns over the phone some more. "Yeah, yeah."

"Problem?"

Mike covers his hand over the phone. "Harvey needs something from office. He wants me to bring it to him. He wants to close a deal next week before the holidays."

Rachel gives him a sympathetic look. "I can, if you want, take care of the boys for the afternoon."

Mike's blue eye widens. "You're okay with that?" he asks skeptically. "But you've never volunteered to watch them before."

Rachel shrugs. "They were snotty little brats in diapers _before_. The little snot monsters are at least potty trained, right?"

It was insulting but endearing at the same time. "Thanks. Call and tell me where you are at around four. I'll pick them up."

"Haaaaarvey again, daddy?" Raphy sing-songs when Mike tells them he has to go. It's obviously teasing, sounding like he's moments a way from singing _K-i-s-s-i-n-g_.

"Raphy!" Jamie chastises his brother, looking scandalized. "You know that it isn't right to tease daddy about the person he loves."

"I'm not teasing if it's true." Raphy pouts, crossing his arms.

"But Harvey doesn't like daddy back," Jamie says, leaning closer to whisper but, with the notion of 'inside voice' still far from his mind, "and daddy will be sad," ends up being announced to the whole restaurant.

Mike looks sternly between his two sons, beet-red, and his face a picture of mortification. God, if only they hadn't inherited his big mouth. But it's too late and the looks his cheeky co-workers are giving him makes him more self-conscious. A thirty year old man with twins does not stand a chance with his really hot boss.

"Jamie, Raphy, be good okay? Daddy will be back later in the evening." he says and ruffles their hair a little rougher than usual.

Truth be told, he's been feeling achy since this morning but he's never been one to back away from a promise. Plus, he already promised the twins  today's outing. As much as he would like to stay, he can't. Things at work, at the firm, are ultimately be for the twins' future.

He kisses them both on their foreheads. "I'll see you later. I love you."

Rachel and Katrina share a knowing glance and start laughing.

***

Harvey Specter does not sulk. A few days have passed since Lunch at Carmine's with Mike. He brought up the idea of a Pearson Specter Children's Party to Jessica the other day, who responded with an elegant lift of her pristinely maintained eyebrow that could slice through paper.

Eventually he got her to agree on the condition that he close the Lancaster consolidation (and their cut must be the size of Everest). He's been so busy with all the last minute client meetings that he hasn't seen Mike since lunch.

Speculation about Mike and the new (returning) Senior Associate have been churning the blades of the associate's rumor mills downstairs, or so Donna says from the file room. The puppies have seen the two virtually attached at the hip everywhere: pantry, library, the building lobby---and each other's offices. One particular account had them in a 'passionate' embrace in Harvey's old office.

It only added to Harvey's theory of Micheal Ross' mysterious baby mama aka Katrina Bennett.

So, no, Harvey is not sulking. He is jealous though. He is jealous over the fact that _she_ got to meet Jamie and Raphy before _him_ even if she was absent for most of their lives. An ambitious girl like her, it makes sense that she put her family on hold. But it is still unfair that she can step right back in anytime she wants. Moreover, that she can be part of Jame and Raphy's life when he's loved their father since they were four, maybe five.

He originally intended to invite Mike, Jamie, and Raphy to watch a Hockey game on his flat screen. But when he called, there were unmistakable voices in the background. He heard Katrina's name and he snapped at Mike for some bullshit reason about the Lancaster deal. Now Mike is coming over, annoyed, and not at all friendly like Harvey  wanted. There goes that plan.

Mike calls up a little after one.

"Files," he says, thrusting the papers into Harvey's chest. He is out of his work clothes, which Harvey admits, suits him very well. "Can we make this quick?"

Mike is wearing a dark blue plaid shirt underneath his soft brown leather jacket and a big fluffy gray cotton infinity scarf. It makes him look like a redneck New Yorker, which didn't make any sense, but the look fits him like a glove.

Harvey sits down, feeling under dressed in his loose black t-shirt and low-sung sleep pants.

"Did you bike here?" he asks, eyeing Mike as he strips off his outer layers. Mike is sweating like a pig underneath all his layers. His winter coat is hanging beside Harvey's near the doorway. His cheeks are red and his breathing is uneven. His hands, pale and long and just the right size to fit in Harvey's mouth, are shaking gently. It doesn't take more than Mike's back hitting the sofa cushions then he goes out like a light, breathing evening out like he hasn't gotten rest in weeks.

It must be the stress of baby mama's return.

Harvey doesn't have the heart to wake the younger man. He touches his hand against Mike's forehead and startles at the warmth. He is overwhelmed with guilt. He ordered Mike to come over and now he has a raging fever. It looks like Mike hasn't even noticed his poor health. It must have been the wind chill and Mike's not-so-adequate winter clothes which are no-more than layers upon layers of fabric but don't have heat-technology. He probably buys the good stuff for his kids and not himself.

He carries Mike into his bedroom because he's merely a man and the prospect of the sight of his beloved on his bed appeals to him. At least he can have the memory of Mike laid out and resting, in a non-sexual way, on his bed. He strips Mike of his cold snow-soaked clothes and wraps him up in thick wool sweaters. He dumps the duvet over Mike's body and, just in case, adjusts the heater in his room. He resolutely does not stare inappropriately like a hormonal teenage boy. Lies! He catches glimpses of pale skin which causes him an impromptu appointment with a cold shower.

By the time he strides out of the shower, enough of his blood has returned to his brain to help him remember something vital about their earlier conversation-- _I'm out with the boys_. Which means that Mike had left them somewhere or someone. Mike will be worried sick, Harvey reasons and uses it as justification to call Donna.

"Donna"

"They're probably at Rachel's," Donna supplies before Harvey even begins to ask the question.

"How did you---?"

"Harvey, you've been sulking all week about Mike and his baby mama." She sighs on the other end of the line. "So you probably did something stupid like lie to get him to go to you... _And_ Rachel just called me in a panic, asking me to Google how to babysit eight year olds."

"Alexander McQueen," Harvey answers.

"Hermes." Donna says before the line dies.

Harry scans through his contacts but doesn't find a Rachel Zane. Two seconds later, he gets a contact card from Donna's cell phone and a message saying ' _jaded'._ Hell, he's feeling generous, he might get her both.

He calls Rachel, explains  what happened, and texts her his address. He initially wanted to meet Jamie and Raphy under different circumstances. But this is what he gets, punishment for being an overly green-eyed monster, so he will milk the experience for all it's worth.

They arrive just after Harvey pays for the pizza delivery. Rachel peeps through the door, noticeably peering over his shoulder to search for Mike. He doesn't call her out on it. He opens the door and motions for them to come in. His back straightens when Katrina walks in with the two boys in tow. The sight makes his stomach sink.

"How is he?" Rachel is first to ask. 

"Sleeping in the bedroom," Harvey tells her, still holding the pizza. He makes a conscious effort not to look in Katrina's general direction, which is difficult because she's holding one of the boys in each hand. "I'll give him some meds when he wakes up again."

She nods. "Harvey, these are Mike's children. Jeremie," she points to the brunette, "and Raphael," to the blond. "Boys, this is Mr. Harvey Specter. He's taking care of your daddy right now and says that you can stay the night in his apartment so you can stay close to your daddy."

They stare at him with large, perceptive eyes.

"He's shorter..." Jeremie starts and Raphael finishes "... than we thought."

"They've been doing that all day," says Rachel, trying not to laugh. "It's kind of cute in a special Mike Ross kind of way. Why don't you say hi?"

One of the boys beat him to it.

"Is that..." Raphael says, eyes growing impossibly wide at the box in Harvey's hand.

Jeremie has the same expression on his face. "PIZZA?!"

"With cheese in the crust." Harvey gives them both a wide ear-to-ear grin. Like a chip off the old block, they really were. "It'll== " he adds but they finish the thought for him.

"--blow your mind!" the boys squeal, rushing to him. In an antic that reminds him very much of their father. Harvey can't help but chuckle when they tackle him to get to the pizza, almost toppling him over. He mentally thanks the heavens for the regular jogging that steeled his legs.

Katrina and Rachel laugh from the entry way. "I guess you are a natural, Mr. Specter," says Katrina.

"Mike's a good friend," Harvey tells them. "Would you like to stay for pizza?"

The two women shake their head. "We made plans. See you in the office, Harvey," Rachel says with a nod. "I'll see us out. You--" she points to him "--are in for a long night." She looks at him like he  just saved her from the very night that she warned him about. He waves absently as they leave.

***

Mike has been feeling under the weather the whole morning. But he made a promise to Katrina (and the boys) to eat lunch out. Despite the pleasant small talk with Rachel over brunch, he still felt the gurgling in his stomach. All he wanted to do was go home and sleep it off. Harvey's phone call had miraculous timing and Harvey's apartment had wonderful heating. Then he was out like a light.

Mike wakes up to the muffled sounds of battle ship lasers and clichéd intergalactic special effect. He groggily sits up, rubbing away the remnants of sleep from his eyes. His arm is inside a large black sweater, he realizes with surprise, that's attached to the rest of his body. He reaches down and feels the lush softness of the white duvet covering his legs--Harvey's room, his brain supplies.

He searches the window and sees pitch black darkness.

He scampers off the bed, legs tangling in the sheets. He falls flat on his face noisily despite the carpet softening his landing. He yanks his leg free. He notices that drawstring sleep pants has replaced his jeans. His body feels heavy and his blood feels like crud. He surveys the room and sees his clothes folded in a neat pile by the vanity mirror. His entire face flushes when he realizes that Harvey _undressed_ him. The more pressing matter is his kids. Jamie and Raphy! Oh dear god, they were at... they were... right here? He rushes out of the bedroom and blinked, several times over, unwilling to believe what his eyes were telling him he was seeing. The twins were huddled on Harvey's couch, in too-large cotton shirts and boxers, in Harvey's condo, in front of Harvey's colossal flat screen, watching one of Harvey's DVDs.

"Is that..." He squints at the television screen with confusion ,"The Wrath of Khan?"

"The Search for Spock, actually." Mike jumps when Harvey comes up beside him, steaming bowl of soup in hand. "What are you doing walking around?"

"I, uhm... what are my kids doing in your condo?" He asks in lieu of answering. "And what are they _wearing_? You lent them your clothes...?"

Harvey is still wearing his nearly black t-shirt and low-slung pants. Mike sees a slither of skin and blushes, bringing his cherry red face under Harvey's direct view. The older man nods. He pushes the warm ceramic container into Mike's hands along with a single pill.

"Eat this. Drink that." Harvey orders, hauling him to breakfast counter. "In the kitchen. You're still contagious. You wouldn't want them catching what you have, right?"

"Yeah" Mike absently agrees. He allows himself to he led into the kitchen then perches himself on a stool. "Whu-- what happened? The Lancaster case?"

"I finished it while you were asleep," Harvey says, smiling into a mug of cocoa. "Jamie's a smart kid. I made him do all the adding-up."

Mike nearly spit out his soup. "You asked him to help? And he helped you?" That was odd. He's never known Jamie to warm up to stranger so quickly. Raphael, maybe. "How did you _do_ that?"

"I go the ones with cheese in the crust." Harvey pulls the refrigerator door open and shows Mike the last box of pizza. Mike has to literally close his mouth with his hands, to which Harvey chuckles at. "Haven't you learned yet, puppy? I _read_ people."

Mike laughs, running a hand through his hair. "Shit, Harvey... you didn't have to do all this." he says, hand waving nonsensically when he means to say--- _all this, everything, taking care of me, having the boys here, understanding that I'll sleep better with them here, knowing that, and everything else_. He wants to confess to Harvey how he wants the scene in the living room to be an everyday thing.

"I meant it, Mike," Harvey asserts, placing his cup on the counter between them. Mike can only stare at the barest hint of abs underneath Harvey's shirt and he almost doesn't hear what Harvey  says. "Jamie and Raphy are great kids. You did an amazing job raising them."

"Thank you," Mike replies. "That means a lot, Harvey."

"Come on, pup." Harvey pats him on the head. "You need to go back to bed or else we'll finish the whole DVD set without you."

"You mean Star Trek, right?" wonders Mike.

"Plus the reboots." Harvey confirms. "There's faith in the young ones yet! You can thank me later for saving another generation."

He eventually ushers Mike into the bedroom. He watches with amusement as Mike climbs onto the bed, grumbling like a petulant child. Mike doesn't appear to realize that they'll be sharing a bed and ends up spread out like a starfish. He'll have to figure a way to squeeze in and get his well-deserved rest.

 

Eventually the night settles to a close. Jamie and Raphy nod off in the middle of _The Final Frontier._ Harvey understand their restlessness in a new place and so he waits until the credits before shutting off the TV. They fit perfectly in the cradle of the sofa, each claiming a side for their own. He brings them spare pillows and a blanket each, patting them both on the head as a good night.

Raphy reaches out to him, hand catching his shirt. He turns back, kneeling beside the boy.

"Scared," the little boy says. "No daddy."

"Daddy's a little sick, Raphy. But he'll be better in the morning, I promise," he says, patting the kid lightly on the thigh. "Tell you what, you can help me make breakfast for your daddy tomorrow. Sound good?" Raphy nods. "Okay, it's a promise. Now, close your eyes and it'll be tomorrow when you wake up."

Raphy's breathing evens out within minutes. Harvey scrapes himself off the floor and leaves a floor lamp on for them. He securely tucks them in their borrowed blankets before he heads to his bedroom. Mike hasn't moved an inch.

Harvey is no saint. He rolls Mike gently to the side and scoots in, bringing the covers up to his chin. And Mike, he discovers, sleeps like an octopus. One minute he's lying on his back, feeling  self-conscious with the slumbering man beside him, and the next minute he has an armful of Mike Ross half-human half-octopus. Mike's fever hot skin is so warm that Harvey has to stick a foot out of the duvet before he can comfortably fall asleep.

***

There's a large steaming cup of cinnamon dolce latte with sugary sugar free butter-caramel syrup, non-fat whipped cream and--is that, it can't be but it is--rainbow sprinkles on her desk when Donna walks into her cubicle. She smelled the coffee the moment she stepped onto the floor. She eyes Harvey's office, the man suspiciously absent.

"Donna, good morning," he says from behind her, startling her. She looks at him, really _looks_ at him, from his pristinely slicked back hair to his shinier than the floor leather shoes, and narrows her eyes.

Her eyes widen.

"You spent the weekend with someone," she says, slowly and deliberately pronouncing  each word, because it 's not yet seven AM and Harvey is in the office. "And by spent, I don't mean sex. You _spent_ the weekend with someone... _in your condo_... and didn't sleep-sleep with them?"

"Sleep-sleep with them?" Chuckles Harvey, going around her. "Are we twelve, now?"

"Harvey!" She pokes him in the chest because it annoys her to _not_ know who it is. The last person she remembers Harvey being with on Saturday was... "You. Did. Not!" Her last poke is purposely harder than the rest. Then she remembers the text from Rachel. "With the puppy's puppies? Harvey, are you insane? Mrs. Puppy is _right_ _beside_ his office!"

"He was sick like a... pig," Harvey justifies. "And he wouldn't have slept well if Jamie and Raphy weren't in the condo with him."

"So _now_ you make a move." Donna rolls her eyes, sitting down on her chair and crossing over her legs. "Four years, Harvey" she says, running a hand over her face. "I had to watch you _pine_ for four years. Do you know what kind of emotional stability it takes _not_ to self-destruct with all your _pining_? Four years of my wonderful life."

Harvey makes a clicking noise as he bites the inside of his cheek. His hands are buried in his trousers while he stands at attention. He's tense---he's vibrating inside his own skin and Donna can nearly feel the tiled floors shaking.

"It's Mrs. Puppy, isn't it?"

Harvey lowers his head a fraction of an inch and Donna understands everything.

"Oh Harvey," she laments for him. The last time Donna saw Harvey like this, he did something that was monumentally stupid with Scottie and nearly lost his job. She hates seeing Harvey like this. "Do you want to have breakfast where they serve those exceedingly expensive biscuits in little teacup things  on your black-card?"

"You do know that Jessica makes me personally pay for the non-client expenses, right?" Harvey quirks up an eyebrow, folding his arms over his chest. It's slightly better than his earlier posture.

"They serve rum-cakes." Donna emphasizes, " _expensive_ rum, rum-cakes."

Harvey points to her bag, then to her coffee. "I see that I have an emergency client meeting for breakfast. Can you book a table and ask Ray to drive out in fifteen minutes."

Donna makes it down to the lobby in ten. She gets off the elevator and nearly smacks straight into her boss' rival in love.

"I'm so sorry!" cries Katrina, as she reshuffles the boxes in her hands.

Donna catches the sweet scent immediately. Her nose leads her to the boxes that Mrs. Puppy is holding. "Those are delicious. Is it a new bakery?" Because she's Donna and she can _smell_ a good cookie from a bad one.

"Homemade," Katrina amends.

"Pecan-Walnut cookies?"

"With white chocolate. Donna, right? Mr. Specter's secretary? Mike's told me about you. Do you want a cookie?"

Donna's eyes sparkle. "Can I?"

"Sure," answers Katrina. She takes a tissue from inside her large pale pink shoulder bag and hands it to Donna. "I was just on my way up to give them to Mike. I thought that the boys might like something with their hot cocoa. Here..." She opens the box and a hill of perfect golden brown cookies greet Donna. For a moment, Donna can hear choirs of angels and small cherubs emanating from the box. 

"Thank you, Katrina," she says, one hand full of cookie and the other holding her coffee. Katrina smiles as a goodbye because her hands  are preoccupied. Donna stomps out of the building. Harvey looks at her impatiently then opens the door.

"You're late."

"You're dead," she retaliates as she slides inside. "Do you know where I got this?"

"No. A bakery?"

"You won't stand a chance against Mrs. Puppy, Harvey. She _bakes cookies_ and you make steak." She pushes the cookie to his face. "Pecan-walnut with white chocolate chips. She just brought a box full of cookies _for the kids_ to Mike. She's like Elle Woods with Agent Carter's brain."

"Legally Blonde? Of all the blonde bombshells that you could have thought of?" Harvey gives Donna a pitiful look.

"You'll forgive me 'cause I made a Marvel reference. You're a sucker for sci-fi," she says, punching him in the arm.

Harvey decides that Katrina Bennett has too much free time on her hands and pawns off the Children's party planning to her.

***

"Harvey!" Two voices call him when he enters the building shortly after lunch, followed by two pairs of arms encircling either leg. Donna headed back to the office earlier but apparently he _did_ have an emergency client meeting with Yvana Zhu. Her husband, an old retail tycoon from Astoria, died this morning. She needed him go over her husband's will with her. Her step-children, all as young as her, wanted to cut her out of the inheritance entirely.

"You know them, Mr. Specter?" The guard inquires.

"It's fine. They are my associate's kids." Harvey nods and waves at him. "Jamie, Raphy, what are you little monsters doing in your daddy's office? Shouldn't you be at home?"

They nod.

"Britney brought us," Jamie says.

"She said she told daddy," Raphy adds.

An average looking girl wearing a purple hoodie, jeans, and converse walks up behind them. She has a bashful smile on her face when she speaks, scratching the side of her head.

"Hi. You know Mike?"

He nods and her face melts into a pleading expression.

"Then, dude, you've got to help me. I promised Mike that I'd take the kids for the day since I have a free period but I'm flunking History and my prof asked us to make a project and it's due tomorrow and I completely forgot 'cause I took on a few more hours at Mo's and I can't say no to these two or Mike and not I'm stuck and I _have_ to pass this class. So can you please, please, please ask Mike not to kill me for bailing?"

He manages to understand bits and pieces of her story but has to ask, "Sorry. Who are you exactly?"

She blushes and stops. "Oh! I'm Britney. College student. Neighbor. I'm the unofficial kid stuck with nanny duty when Mike's out. But I can't today, dude, and Mike isn't answering his cell."

Harvey frowns. He raises a hand and fishes out his phone, automatically dialing his secretary. "Donna, where's Mike?" he asks over the receiver. He growls a few minutes later. "And he isn't answering his phone again?" He rubs his forehead. "Jesus, that kid never learns," he says under his breath, not loud enough for them to hear.

He has half a mind to shoo all three of them away but he takes one look at the twins' puppy dog eyes and he knows that he's a goner.

"I'm sure he's just busy," Harvey appeases, not wanting to put down Mike. "It's no problem. I can take them up myself," he reassures.

"That would be great. Thank you Mr. Specter," she says, beaming. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! If you ever decide to get coffee at Mo's look for me, Britney, and I'll hit you up with a free coffee. But no up-sizes. I can't afford that on my wage. Bye!"

Harvey looks down at the pair who are looking up at him. He sighs and thinks of a viable excuse to give Jessica without it having it backfire on Mike, especially in the bullpen rumor mills. He should really take them to their mother but his selfish side overpowers that thought. He decides to bring them to his office instead. 

"This isn't a day care," is the first thing that Jessica says when they step out of the elevator. Security must have alerted her of the situation so she is waiting for them at reception. Her arms are crossed, and in her heels, she towers over everyone. "I see why you thought of the children's party. Please tell me their mother is  not from this firm or that your wife looks barely out of her teens."

"They're not mine." Harvey laughs her off. "Jessica, these little monsters are Jeremie and Raphael Ross. I believe you've heard of them."

Jessica looks at Harvey in understanding. "So these are the little ones that have been fueling the rumors in the bullpen." She bends her knees. "I've heard that you little guys can memorize entire works of poetry and recite them aloud. Is this true?"

They shakes their heads. "No, ma'am."

She lifts one of her eyebrows.

"Make them quote _Undiscovered Country_ " Harvey suggests.

"Star Trek, really, Harvey?"

Harvey lifts his shoulders.

"Very well," she says. "You start it."

"There's this old Vulcan proverb: only Nixon could go to China," Harvey starts off by quoting Spock. It's like setting  off fireworks. Within minutes, Jamie and Raphy are quoting line after line of the movie, alternating between characters.

They earn Jessica's approval and she gives them the green light to stay in Harvey's office because having them on the associate's floor would spark further controversy. It's needless to say that they spend the rest of the day watching the New Generation films on Harvey's laptop.

It was good. Donna rescheduled the rest of his appointments, barring emergencies, until _after_ the New Year. They could wait. Most of the partners were already off on their own vacations, a majority of the older staff too. All those who remained in the office were workaholics like Harvey, and those who were still saving up on vacation days.

Mike drops by Harvey's office, a little after five, surprised to find his twins taking up the entire length of Harvey's leather couch with Harvey's coat draped over them like a makeshift blanket. It's stretched tautly between the two boys, each holding a sleeve as they sleep.

"Harvey?"

"Britney, I believe that was her name, dropped by," Harvey answers without looking up from his laptop. "Where's your phone?"

"My phone?" Mike parrots, patting his pockets. "Oh shit I--"

"Left it at home. I know," Harvey deadpans, giving him a look that is entirely too fond to be professional. "How was Judge Turner?"

"Evil," Mike responds, still in shock at the slumbering pair. He wants to rub his eyes to clarify that they aren't a figment of his imagination but Harvey cuts his train of thought.

"They were lucky that I came back to the office when I did. Or they would have been indefinitely stuck in the lobby. Did you know that your own kids don't know your name?"

Mike is visibly shocked by that information, looking indignantly at Harvey. "What?!"

"It's, actually, very funny." Donna buts in through the door and not the intercom. She points to the sleeping twins when they look at her funny. "You should teach them to call you puppy and basic commands like _heel, sit, play dead_. It'll be hilarious at the children's party on Thursday."

 No, just kidding. Britney gave your name to security but they couldn't remember who you are." Harvey folds his hands over his chin and nods, elbows firmly on the desk. "Guess there are too many employees in the building," he says with a shrug.

Harvey snaps his fingers and points to Donna's cubicle. She retreats with an eye roll, closing the door with by swaying her hips.

"Yes, Mike?" Harvey asks, finally looking up. "You needed me?"

"Uh, right." Mike hands him a file. "The drafts are here. Proof-read with my suggestions."

Harvey flips through them with a non-committal hum. "These should do. None of those office lawyers read through these over the holidays anyway," he says with a sigh. "Did you ride your bike today?"

"No." Mike shakes his head. "Snow was too deep to pedal through this morning."

Harvey nods, again with the thinking hum. "Ray's already on his way," he tells Mike, looking at the slight flurry of snow through his office window. "I'll take you home. Wouldn't want thee little monsters to catch something before the party. Jessica is looking forward to their rendition of the _Generations_."

"Jessica, what?"

"It was her version of the sphinx question," Harvey explains lightly. "They provided about twenty minutes worth of movie-quoting and most of the reception staff gave five-star reviews. They can hardly wait for the encore performance at the Christmas Party. Now, we have a talent show too."

Harvey takes Mike and the twins to back to their apartment. They squeeze into the back of Ray's town car, with Raphy beside Harvey and Jamie beside Mike. The large pink box of Katrina's cookies  on Mike's lap. Harvey glares at it the entire ride home. He is a tiny bit thankful that she still doesn't live with them, despite being their biological mom.

Somewhere along the way home, Raphy has crawled over Harvey's lap and promptly fell asleep. Harvey takes his chance and accompanies Mike to their floor, tucking Raphy into bed. He gives in to the urge to gently run his hand over the boy's head. Mike does the same for Jamie.

"Ever thought of settling down, have kids?" Mikes asks as he leads Harvey to the door. He's smiling affectionately. Harvey forces himself not to look into it beyond being a remnant of the normal fatherly affection for the twins. "'Cause you're awfully good at it. Kinda freaks me out, actually."

"Maybe," replies Harvey, looking directly at him. "I'm just waiting for the right person to settle down with. Have kids, white picket fence, the whole shebang."

Mike laughs. He leans against the doorway, one arm in his trouser pocket and the other hangs loosely  at his side. "I figured you for the type who'd want a backyard to play catch-in."

"With a pitcher's  net," Harvey confirms. He has this dreamy look in his eyes when he says it and immediately Mike can tell that Harvey is in-love. It punches him to the gut because-- _it isn't him_. "She's a lucky lady," Mike says, fighting the hitch in his throat. "Just there. Right now. Harvey Specter has a heart and he's in love. That look says it all, Harvey. Why don't you go for it?"

Harvey looks back at Mike. He knows, he just knows that this man will never be his. Not with Legally Carter and her stupidly good cookies. She'll make a good fit, a good wife, a good mother for Mike's children. She can make Mike happy and ways that Harvey can't.

This right here---the house, the husband, the kids---is something he can never have. It's better to just forget about his feelings and give Mike a shot at a normal family life.

"Rule number seven, never date someone who's involved," he answers Mike, all smug and full of bravado but it manages to still sound sad. "It's right next to rule number six, never date married women."

***

Probably one of the reason why they never held an in-office Christmas Party before was due to the lack of space available. Pearson Specter may lease several floors of the building to house partners, associates, paralegals, and their multiple other departments that keep the firm running, but all those floors contain highly sensitive information. Hence, for the party, they totally rearrange the library to accommodate the guests (kids only seating).

It is completely different from other Pearson Specter _functions_. This is a party. All of the top-secret files, sensitive documents, and other potential liabilities are closed off. Unlike other occasions, employees are given the opportunity to bring, not only their children, but their partners as well. It is a unique experience seeing varying sectors interacting together in a social setting.

Jessica is looming over the party from her perch on the ledge, observing the gathering, when Harvey slides in beside her.

"Quite a party, Harvey," she says as a greeting, eyes twinkling.

"Thank you," Harvey accepts with a nod. He is holding a paper cup in his hand.  "Would be better if we had _real_ alcohol."

"I'm surprised that no one's tried to spike the punch." Jessica surmises, turning slightly to give Harvey an accusing look. "Like this one guy from the mail room."

"The quality of our staff! We should talk to Felicity in HR." Harvey gasps mockingly. He go back to surveying the room, watching as employees clump together in small groups while the children are all playing together in varying corners. There's an on-going game of hide-and-seek between the shelves.

"Benjie!" Mike singsongs as he walks onto the floor, Jamie and Raphy in tow.

"Michael," Benjamin greets, surprisingly _not_ in a deadpan. He looks down, bending at the waist, to look at the twins at eye-level. "I see that these are your infamous spawn that I have been hearing about."

Mike keeps his smile and introduces his children. "You didn't brings yours?" he asks, and on cue a middle-eastern woman in a brightly colored _sari_ approaches them, kissing Benjamin on the cheek.

"Hello, honey," the woman says, rubbing absently at her large protruding belly.

"Michael, this is Carmel, the Zelda to my Link and the healer of my heart," Benjamin introduces. "Perhaps I can bring our player number 3 if there's a party again next year."

"Hi Mike," Katrina says, approaching the small group. Her smile is big and bright when she turns to twins. "Hello Raphy, hello Jamie."

"Katrina!" They both say at the same time, going up to hug her from either side. "Did you make cookies?" They ask, big wide eyes looking hopefully at her.

"Of course, I did." She smiles. She points to the small assortment of goodies arranged on a small children's buffet--candy canes, snowman mochi, and cinnamon oat cookies shaped like pine trees. "Specially made for my two boys."

They squeal in childish delight and make a beeline for it.

"Michael!" Benjamin cuts in "Your player number 2?" he asks looking between Katrina and Mike. They blush simultaneously.

"They really are beautiful boys," Carmel compliments. "You didn't come together?" They laugh nervously. They look between each other and shared a laugh.

"No, no," says Mike. "You've got the wrong idea. She isn't their mother."

"Oh, but they look like you," Carmel tells Katrina then nudges Benjamin. "Don't they Benjamin?"

"I must agree, Michael." Benjamin nods. He snakes an arm around Carmel's waist. "The resemblance is uncanny."

"It's really a long story," Mike tries to explain-- _a really, really long and complicated one._  

Benjamin nods. "Perhaps we can continue this when you grace the IT department with your presence again." He pats Mike on the shoulder and lead Carmel off into another direction.

"I'm sorry about that," Mike apologizes, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know how juniors can get. Sometimes I think that the rumor mills are the _only_ thing keeping them entertained. I never had that kind of free time when I was working for Harvey."

"Ahh, Mr. Specter!" Katrina repeats. "You're awfully _fond_ with him, aren't you Mike? He seems to have taken a shine on the boys as of late as well."

"Do you want to share with the class?" Rachel cuts in, coming out of nowhere, crossing her palms over Mike's shoulder. "Boo"

"Jesus, Rachel! It's Christmas, not Halloween" squeaks Mike. He raises a hand defensively over his ear. "Harvey, he---he likes someone else. I saw it in his eyes when be brought us home to the apartment the other day."

"Aww, Mike." Rachel looks at him skeptically. "What if that look was for you?"

"He was telling me about a white-picket fence and a pitcher's net in the backyard." Mike shakes his head and looks down. "That kind of thing is the American Dream, ya know."

"Say Mike," Katrina says suddenly, wringing her hands in a nervous gesture. "Speaking of white-fences... I was thinking--well hoping-- that maybe you can let me take Jamie and Raphy to my parents house before or after Christmas."

Mike's blood freezes. "You told them about the twins?!" he hisses in a low voice but still loud enough to garner a couple of bystanders to turn and look.

"They're my parents, Mike." Katrina bites her lip. "I had to tell them."

"They are _my_ kids. You never even had a hand in raising them. Neither did they."

"But mom and dad are their grandparents too," Katrina argues. "Don't you think that Jamie and Raphy deserve at least a chance at that? At getting to know their own grandparents?"

That's how Harvey finds them: with Mike glaring daggers in Katrina's direction, red-faced, and looking like he 's just about ready to punch _something_ (even Katrina) in the face.

"Mike," he barks, pulling on Mike's arm before  he can do something monumentally stupid. "Heel, puppy. _Calm the fuck down,_ " he whispers straight into Mike's ear, lips so close that he nudges the shell of Mike's ear. He hides the steel in his voice well and maintains the demeanor of a consummate professional in front of their audience.

Of course, Harvey heard the entire thing: he was watching them from the moment Mike entered the room.

His tone of voice sends shivers up Mike's spine. Mike shudders against him.

"I---I need some air."

Instead of releasing him, Harvey pulls him out of the library and heads straight for his office.

"She's going to take them away," Mike bemoans, slumping onto Harvey's couch.

"She won't," Harvey says, biting the insides of his cheek. "I won't let her. No matter what the law says.”

"Harvey, you don't understand---"

Harvey raises a hand to stop him. " _You_ stay here and calm the hell down. You look like hell just froze over." A _nd it makes me want to touch you_ _in ways just so I know that you're still sane._ He settles himself on the other end of the couch, perched on the arm rest. He glances over Mike's boneless figure laying down across from him.

Fuck, of all the people on this earth, he falls for the one with complicated post-children feelings with the mother of his kids. Harvey's brain makes a sick congratulatory toast with his heart, the smug bastard.

"You can stay here for awhile. The rest of the offices are closed for the party. I need you to calm down and not _jostle_ your own damn kids when you re-emerge from hiding. Got it?"

"You're going to leave me in your office? Where are _you_ going?"

"Unlike you, I'll be missed. I'm a _Name_ Partner. It's a requirement to show up at all these childish events." He gives Mike a sweeping glance before buttoning his jacket and standing up. "My presence is the best _damn_ gift for the kids." The sound of Mike softly chuckling accompanies him all the way to the elevator.

Louis Litt has just made and appearance as Santa Claus by the time Harvey arrives back in the venue. Louis is _not_ wearing a fat suit, that's all him, a colossally huge white beard, and openly wearing a wig! Merry Christmas, Harvey snaps a picture for future blackmail purposes. He even indulges in taking a video of Louis's _ho ho ho_. It 's hilarious. May be he'll show it to Mike and brighten the kid's spirits.

He sees Katrina in the corner, playing stage-mom.

"Miss Bennett," he greets her. "A minute?"

She looks at him with shock, surprise, and wonder---all at the same time. She stumbles on her pure white stilettos when she goes to him. "Yes, Mr. Specter?"

"I was reminded that I've never formally welcomed you back to Pearson Specter after your work for us during the Darby International affair," he tells her smoothly. While it was true, he used it to soften the blow of his next few worlds. "Many things have changed during the time that you left. One of those things is Mike Ross."

"Mr. Specter, I don't understand..."  she tries to say but Harvey is too stubborn for her words.

 "Mike has gone a long way to get here. You do not know _half_ of what he's done to be where he is today. He's is also _my_ associate. And let me tell you this, Miss Bennett, I take care of people that I care for. I care for Mike and I care for his children. Even as their mother, you have _no right_ to take them away or I will _bury_ you in legal paperwork for the rest of life as an attorney." He looks her dead in the eye. "Do we understand each other?"

Katrina nods slowly. Her interactions with Harvey _or Jessica_ have been scarce and few. Never did she expect to be told of by the second name on the wall to... _Fuck off and leave my boyfriend_ in the most professional way possible. He threatened her with paperwork! She opens her mouth to respond by he quickly cuts her off.

"Good." Harvey smirks. "That is all. It's a splendid party. My compliments to the organizer." Then he turns and walks away. She is left stunned with a million thoughts flying through her head. How can _the_ Harvey Specter misread the situation _so badly_? He was normally one of the most level-headed players on the field except now he wasn't thinking with his brain. 

"Katrina?" Rachel finds her a good half hour later still standing in the same place, not having moved an inch.  It breaks Katrina's trance.

"Oh my god," she starts with a whisper. "OH MY GOD. Rachel! Harvey thinks _I'm_ the twins' mother." She gasps because she completely and utterly froze. In court, what Harvey did would constitute to testifying for the witness but she couldn’t even get a word in before he left.  

"What?" But reconsiders it after a second. "Well… Mike's only told me that she was from his high school… and I'm the closest person to Mike aside from Harvey. He's never said anything else about her. So I guess that'll make sense if Harvey looked into your employee profile. I'm assuming Donna gave it to him."

"Oh dear god. Rachel, what am I going to do? How do I tell him? He'll never believe me even if I deny it."

Rachel takes Katrina's shaking hand and kisses her on the cheek.

"I have a plan."

***

Friday night is time for the Pearson Specter Yuletide Ball. It is an annual event which the firm hosts to thank their ever growing clientele for the billables they earned throughout the year. It's a high-class gala which they try to host in a different location every Christmas. This year, it's at the penthouse of a five-star hotel. It 's fancier, classier, and a more elegant celebration than the in-house Children's party. Men were in tuxes and women in formal gowns.

"Harvey," Donna says, sliding her arms on top of the open crystal-crusted bar which is on the side of the humongous high-ceiling penthouse. She wears a long forest green embellished dress and her hair is pulled to the side. She places her small black clutch (Hermes) on the counter.  She sits down, letting her leg peak through the high-slit on her thigh. The she frowns.

"You're not drinking Champagne or a spritzer," she notes, eyeing him intensely. "Should I tell Jessica to waive your alcohol privileges for the night?"

Harvey takes another _swig_ of his drink without answering.

"Please tell me that you at least brought Ray?" She asks because a sober Harvey meant that he was having a mid-life crisis.

He shakes his head and takes another swig .

"Are you so intent of flushing your bladder full of--" Her eyes widen. She sees the color of Harvey's tuxedo: not black but dark charcoal to bring out his eyes with the velvet lining . "You want to _tell_ him. What did you do?"

"I may or may not have spoken to Mrs. Puppy."

"When?!" Donna half-gasps and half-demands. Her emerald eyes narrowing.

"I said," Harvey repeats, separating each word like she were a child. "I _may_ or _may not_ have done something, irreversibly stupid to a person who _may_ or _may not_ be commonly referred to as Mrs. Puppy."

"Plausible deniability. Got it," she says. "So during this hypothetical encounter what may or may not you have said?"

"I threatened her over the puppy's puppies," he confesses over the top of his glass. His expression is the personification of morose.

"And why did you do that?"

"Because I now realize that I may or may not have been in-love with Mike for the past four years. And now I can't have him because he deserves to be happy with his Legally Carter," he says, half-slumping on the counter. He takes one last full swig of the soda water, downing the remains.

"The fake wine is insulted by your barbaric sensibilities," Mike's voice comes from behind him. Harvey whips around so fast that his head spins. Donna orders a martini and gets her camera phone ready.

"Mike!" Harvey does not squeak. He takes one good long look at Mike, whom hasn't seen before now, and his mouth dries up like the Sahara. The tuxedo is one of Rene's best work on Mike's lean muscular form. It showcases Mike's chest, waist, and his backside. "Y--you look nice.":

"I think Katrina will like her new nickname," he says, smiling brightly at him. "Do I get to be Jason Bond?"

"Jason who--?"

Mike shrugs, moving closer to him. "I was going for James Bond and Jason Bourne," he tells Harvey playfully. "So, no to the character references?"

"Mike, are you drunk?" Harvey, and if asked he will definitely deny it, backs into the counter. His spine digging painfully into the edge. Because Mike is so close and smells so nice and he wants to kiss Mike right here and now.

"No," Mike slides his way into Harvey's space. "Are you?"

"No," Harvey answers honestly.

"Good," Mike says before pulling at Harvey's lapels and crushing their lips together. It takes a good minute of coaxing before Harvey melts under Mike's lips and starts to respond. And boy, does he respond. He grabs onto Mike's back, buries one of his hands on the back of Mike's neck, and all but hauls Mike against his body. Then stops. "Harvey, what...?" 

"We can't Mike" Harvey says, shaking everywhere. "Jamie and Raphy... they deserve their mom, not an old man like me." It's so was wrong on so many levels because Harvey Specter never calls himself old.

Mike takes Harvey face in his hands, gazing straight into Harvey's eyes. "You rule my professional life but you do not rule my personal life. Who are you to tell me _who_ my children _deserve_? They deserve someone who loves them just as much as I do. Harvey, I will be the one to determine that."

"But Mike," Harvey protests, covering Mike's hands with his own. "What about...?"

Mike turns Harvey's head to the direction of the dance floor where Katrina and Rachel are wrapped-up in a slow dance. Harvey's eyes widen and his stress lines start appearing on his forehead.

"She's Jamie and Raphy's _aunt,_ " Mike whispers, warm breath hot in Harvey's ear. He deliberately swipes his lower lip on Harvey's skin. "So is it true? You're been a little bit in love with me for the past four years, hmmmm...?"

Harvey turns in Mike's hands. "No," he says. But then he presses their lips together before Mike can utter another word. This is kiss is more urgent than the last one. Mike's hands slide up into Harvey's hair, sliding between Harvey's legs as the older man leans into the bar. Harvey's hands travel down the slope of Mike's back and to the dip of his---

"A _hem_ " Donna clears her throat. She gives them a pointed look and hands over a small pouch. Mike shakily takes it from her, blushing when he feel the tell-tale from of bottles inside. "Go on now boys. I got all the flavors that they had. Oh, and Jessica is coming this way."

The last sentence, get them scrambling upright. They smooth their clothes out just in the nick of time as Jessica enters their peripheral field of vision.

"Harvey. Donna. Mike," she greets them all in succession. "Isn't it a little warm here this evening?" She asks in a tone designed to deliberately make them uncomfortable.

Donna pretends not to notice the way Jessica's eyes are glinting mischievously. "I should go check that out and ask the banquet staff," her tone making it so obvious that she was jerking all three of them around. They let her make her dramatic escape into crowd. 

Jessica turns her attention back to Harvey and Mike.

"So?" She says, not even acting, for their sake, that she cannot see the redness of the lips, that they are slick with saliva, and the sheen of their sweat on their faces. She chooses, instead, to look directly _at_ them from Harvey to Mike then Mike to Harvey. She studies both men up and down. Mike shifts under the scrutiny.

"I won't say that I'm surprised," she says. She briefly turns around and orders herself a drink. She looks back to them from the top of her whiskey. "Not about _this,_ " she blatantly waves her glass at them."I'm surprised that you chose to do it _here_."

The comment makes Mike blush all the way down his swanky tuxedo-collar.

Jessica holds up her hand and continues talking. "I am ordering a whole bunch of expensive drinks and I'll put on _your_ personal account, Harvey. God knows how long I've _suffered_ watching you two fools dance around each other!" She rolls her eyes and leaves them stunned at the bar.

"Do you still think that this is a good idea?" Harvey asks after a long drawn out silence. He's holding himself stiffly against the bar, hands clenching at his sides. Mike reaches down, sneaking his fingers in the creases of Harvey's fingers.

"I've made a lot of stupid decisions in my life, Harvey," Mike says, angling his body closer. He's leaning into Harvey's space but not really touching him. Then slides his eyes to Harvey's face. "But I don't think this is one of them."

Harvey closes the gap between them, sealing their lips in a kiss. It's soft and chaste.

"You're _kind of_ in-love with me?" Mike clarifies while their foreheads are pressed together. He says it with a teasing tone, almost endearing, palming Harvey's waist through the charcoal fabric of Harvey's tuxedo. He playfully slips his fingers down and squeezes Harvey's ass.

Harvey resolutely will deny jumping. He pulls Mike until they are flushed together.

"I _kind of_ want to take you home and skip this long boring party."

Mike laughs out loud, slapping Harvey on his pocket square. He curves his foot around the back of Harvey's calf. It make him nestle himself on Harvey's thigh even further. He kisses up the column of Harvey's neck before whispering "You'll rob them of your presence for _me_?"

That makes the Harvey's chest vibrate as he laughs. Mike has a hand sprawled over the dark cloth. The rest of the party is long forgotten behind them.

"My apartment is closer," murmurs Mike,  from where he nuzzles the spot below Harvey's ear. Harvey shudders and preens under the attention. His sweaty palms grip the counter in a vice-like hold. "The twins are asleep."

The last of Harvey's control audibly _snap_. Mike's eyes widen when he pulls back. He eyes Harvey's white-knuckle grip on the bar, the hitch in his breath, and his irises blown so wide that none of the normal warm brown color can be seen.

They fumble, tumble, and stumble as they cross the hall and head straight to the elevators. Hands and lips touch every inch of skin that they can reach. They cannot go down fast enough. Mike's vibrating with anticipation. He's clicks the 'close' then the 'L' buttons in rapid succession.

"Harvey, fuck!" Mike groans out loud and bangs his head against the elevator mirror when Harvey scrapes shiny whites over the slope of his Adam's apple. He's already breathing like he's run a mile. His sweating hand prints smudge against the mirror.

"That's the plan," Harvey says roughly, tonguing over Mike's pulse point.

Mike catches a glimpse of his own reflection when he comes up for air. His hair is messy, his face is flushed, and his eyes are glazed over, as if  he were high. He might be high. He's so high on Harvey's cologne and Harvey's aftershave and---Harvey starts sucking a hickey just above his collar.

The elevator dings. They pull apart, thankful that there are no other hotel guests lurking after midnight. They put a respectful distance between them as they stride into the lobby. Harvey hands a valet his ticket, feeling like he 's back at prom except that he;s taking his date _home_. The after-party was just beginning.

A car engine revs from the outside.

"No way," Mike thinks aloud because it suddenly got much, much hotter despite winter weather. "Is that a...?"

Harvey just grins. He runs a hand over the smooth silver hood finish as he saunters over to the driver's side. If the valet's face was any indication, Harvey must have tipped the man a ridiculous amount of money. He easily slides inside, buckles up, then revs the engine two more times. It draws a crowd.

"Get in," he says, giving Mike a sensuous once-over through the open passenger-side window.

Mike is thanking all the heavenly star because he's knees do not buckle until he pulls the door closed behind him. It smelled like new leather and the _new car_ scent. It must have been leased from the club.

"Harvey," he calls . It's echoes through the car's new interior. The acoustics are phenomenal.

Harvey turns to look at him, wide smile and eyes twinkling. The temptation to lean over and kiss Harvey stupid is too great.

So Mike does.

It's all teeth, pent up passion, and saliva mixing inside their mouths. Mike moans out loud as Harvey revs the engine once more without breaking their kiss. It's crazy hot and transports Mike  back to his high school days. Only this time, he's with the quarter back and not the cheerleader. When they do pull apart, Harvey shifts the gear like the suave badass that he is and they speed off into the night.

***

Breakfast is a slow and easy affair. Light carefully and delicately streams through the airy white  curtains. Mike rouses from his sleep with a yawn. His legs feel like pure jello on barbeque sticks, uncooperatively _not_ holding up his weight. He falls, ass first, flat on the floor the moment he tries to leave the bed. It wakes up Harvey.

This sleepy Harvey does not jolt awake. He languidly relishes the limbo between sleep and wakefulness, urging his consciousness to awaken. He cracks one of his eyes open and lazily croons his head in Mike's general direction. A soft smile plays on his lips as he takes in the sight of Mike sprawled naked, pulling half the bed sheet with him. 

"You could help me, you know," Mike complains with amusement.

"And miss _this_ view?" Harvey rolls onto his side and props up and elbow, lounging. "No." He sticks out his tongue.

But then Mike pulls more of the sheet around himself, revealing Harvey's golden tan skin for all the world and his neighbors to see (if they were lucky).

"You cheeky shit," Harvey muses.

Mike smiles, triumphant. "I fixed the view. You're right. It's _very_ good."

In response, Harvey tosses him a pillow before swinging out of bed. He rummages through the disarray of clothes abandoned in the aftermath of last night's---activities. He has to hop to snag his silk blue boxers hanging from the ceiling fan.

"Did I forget to say _very_ nice view, Mr. Specter?" Mike teases from the floor, eye shamelessly going over Harvey's body as if it were on display in a museum.

Harvey laughs. The timbre is low and scratchy from a night of abuse. His throat is dry. So instead of bothering his brain for a witty retort, he strides over to Mike and captures the younger man in a long drawn out good morning kiss.

"I have just realized that I _literally_ have nothing to wear." He tells Mikes when they part. "Does this mean I can go around naked all day long? You did say that the view in your apartment was _spectacular_."

Mike hits him playfully on the thigh. "Your sweatpants from when I caught something are in the drawer." He points to the other side of the room.

Harvey plucks out his old sweats, mixed in with the rest of Mike's clothing like it was meant to be there, and makes a happy noise in the back of his throat. He drags them over his legs, one after the other, then turns to Mike and freezes---

Mike is wearing Harvey's discarded white shirt from last night, left open and hanging off his slightly slimmer frame. He mentally stores that image away and if he forgets (highly doubtful), he'll simply have to have a repeat of last night's performance.

"Come on," Mike cajoles, guiding him by the hand to the kitchen. They work silently in perfect sync; making coffee, getting the milk then the sugar, cups and teaspoons. Mike takes out the plates and the silverware. Harvey hauls a bag of bacon and a carton of eggs from the refrigerator.  They move like they've been doing it for years---in many ways, they have in the office.

It's strangely domestic how Mike sits on the a stool, one leg hanging and the other folded beneath him, beside the kitchen island while Harvey busy crisping bacon in the pan. They share their first cups of coffee in comfortable silence. They don't have to speak to understand. Not anymore, they crossed that boundary last night.

Mike only tenses when the rumblings of the twins rising come from the second bedroom. Harvey tenses as well, looking at Mike with questioning eyes.

"Should I...?"

Mike shakes his head. "Stay"

Jamie and Raphy pad out to the living room with bare feet. Jamie carries his dinosaur and Raphy is holding his giraffe. It's clear that they are walking around half-asleep. They take in the scene in front of them with childish wonder, glancing back and forth between the two men, and then they start to sing.

"Daddy and Harvey sitting in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g!"

 

**Author's Note:**

> Once more, to everyone, have a very merry Christmas! I hope you enjoyed Dad!Mike and the adorable Ross Twins~ They were my very first OMCs and I liked writing them. :D So please be generous this Christmas with your comments/kudos! Hohoho~


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